Back-up
by DarkestWolfx
Summary: What if Sherlock actually had needed help when he texted Lestrade? Spoilers for 3x02.


I really wanted to write this, because I do love Lestrade and Sherlock's friendship. It was nice of him to let someone else have the credit to help Sherlock, although it wasn't as drastic as his texts made it seem. Anyway I just wanted to write it as though it had been.

* * *

HELP.

BAKER ST.

NOW.

HELP ME.

PLEASE.

* * *

He hadn't hesitated to order maximum backup as he climbed into his car and drove off towards his designated location, knowing he would definitely get there first.

Upon arrival, he noticed he would have little use for the spare key he had as the door was open. The lock looked as though it had been forced and Mrs Hudson was poking her head out of the door to her own part of the house.

"What's happening?" He asked her quickly, without even stopping his momentum as he propelled himself up the stairs.

"I don't know, but there's a lot of noise." The landlady told him just as he turned around the crook in the stairs.

"What's wrong?" He called as he entered the room through the door that led into the kitchen only to see Sherlock narrowly avoid getting hit in the face. The detective seemed to notice him and seemed to forget about the battle he was currently in upon the Inspectors arrival. Lestrade wasn't quick enough to warn him that his attacker was moving forward and so Sherlock was promptly propelled into the bookcase as the other knocked his feet out from underneath him, a few books falling off in the process and landing on the floor next to him.

Immediately Lestrade dashed into help, because whether you were Sherlock, the world's only consulting detective or a more human, well human, a fight of one against five was not at all fair and meant you were completely outnumbered. Especially when all of them looked and were a lot stronger and rougher than their opponent.

The Detective Inspector went for the one closest to him, attempting to pull him backwards, his main concern and plan being getting to Sherlock and then thinking the rest from there. One of the others pulled Sherlock back up just as Lestrade managed to pull the guy he had been going for away and towards the sofa, going for the guy who had been stood next to him, who of course had promptly turned to see what the incursion was.

Sherlock was pushed towards Lestrade, hands gripping the collar of his shirt the entire way as the Scotland Yard officer attempted to take down not only the guy he had pushed away moments ago, but also the one next to him.

Two against five still wasn't really fair, but it was better than Sherlock facing them alone.

It didn't take long for Sherlock to realise he was heading towards the kitchen and think of an idea, although that was quickly ruined by Lestrade being pushed into him and the five guys herding them backwards into the kitchen. As one went to punch Lestrade, Sherlock moved so that the punch hit his extended hand, pushing the guy as far back as he could while Lestrade attempted to hold off some of the others.

It didn't take too long for them to be easily outfought, although they were doing incredibly well.

Sirens and blue flashing lights appeared and the noticeable sound of helicopter blades whirling through the air and Lestrade breathed a sigh of relief, which showed and gave the perfect opportunity to manipulate his distraction. It only took one shove to push him into Sherlock and send the pair crashing backwards, demolishing the contents on the table as they did so. Lestrade ended up connecting with the floor and Sherlock hitting his head on the fridge.

As officers made their way into the flat, the group attempted to flee only to be caught and escorted out into waiting police cars, as the group were formally arrested. The Detective Inspector pulled himself up and looked over at Sherlock who seemed to be doing the same.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he looked over at Sherlock.

"Yes I think so. Nothing seems broken, maybe a few cuts-" Sherlock stopped abruptly through his mental check as he flexed his hand, shooting pain suddenly down his smallest finger, "Okay and a broken finger, possibly two."

"Will you be alright? I would take you to a doctor, but you'd probably attack me for it. I could call John if you wanted, you know he'd come round and-"

"No!" Sherlock shouted quickly, authority seeping through his tone and Lestrade jumped back slightly, "No, don't call John. He's out with Mary tonight, otherwise I would of called him earlier myself."

"Oh I see," Lestrade voiced as he realised why Sherlock had texted him in the first place now, "How did you have time to text me?"

"I heard them coming up the stairs, saw them enter the room, typed out a quick text to you just as they pulled me up from the sofa."

"I tried calling to check if you were okay."

"I heard," Sherlock informed him, "I think my mobile's underneath the sofa on the floor somewhere. If they've broken it-"

"Yeah and talking about broken stuff let's fix your finger and get that glass out of the arm." Lestrade told the Consulting Detective as he noticed the small fragment.

"What? Oh that, minor scrape."

"Still I'm taking it out. I'll help you clear all of this mess up as well." Lestrade told him as he gestured to the floor space of the kitchen which was covered in broken glass. Sherlock – obviously begrudgingly though – gave in in the end and let the other do what he wished.

* * *

It was an hour later when they had patched everything up – including themselves – and Sherlock had told Lestrade why the five gang members were there in reference to something he had been investigating, that the pair sat on the sofa as Lestrade turned on the TV for the evening news, with a slightly disappointed look on his face that didn't go a miss by the world's one and only.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked suddenly, startling his friend.

"What?"

"The reason why you're looking like that."

"Like what?"

"Well like you are."

"Which is?"

"Well that look that's… well the one that's on your face."

"That would be my face, Sherlock."

"No I mean-" Sherlock paused, in search for the right word, the right emotion. But as he couldn't find it, he just decided it was easier to give up, "Oh forget it."

There was a silence for a moment before Lestrade spoke.

"Disappointment," He voiced and Sherlock turned to him suddenly, "The look on my face is disappointment."

"Why?" Sherlock asked curiously, because as far as he was concerned, Lestrade had helped to save him from being beaten to a pulp. Although he did partially do that himself of course when he was pushed up against the open window. The five guys had originally had a knife on them, but he had grabbed that a managed to sling it out of the window and onto the pavement. From the sound of things, he didn't actually hit anyone: which was a good thing.

"Because I didn't make the arrest on the case and now someone else will get the credit." Sherlock blinked for a moment being releasing a breath in understanding.

"The bank robberies of course," He paused, "Why won't you get the credit? You created the plan."

"Because I left the scene to come and help you, that's why," Lestrade answered as he stood up and grabbed his coat, "If you're alright, I'm going to head off home, have a drink or something."

"Smoking will kill you." Sherlock reminded.

"Hey I told you that was a grief thing. I've stopped now." The officer answered as he headed out of the door and started down the stairs, only to be stopped a moment later.

"Lestrade!" He turned to face Sherlock who was still sat in the same casual position on the sofa, not having moved in the seconds in which Lestrade's back had been turned, "Why did you come if you knew you'd lose all of the credit?"

"Because you said please," Lestrade answered simply, "That and you typed in capital letters, which you never do unless it's an absolute emergency. You've always backed me up as well."

"Oh." The other answered as he grabbed his mobile to view a text from Mycroft.

"That and you're my friend. And friends come before getting the credit for some case don't they?" Sherlock was left with that question on his mind as Lestrade left.

* * *

I couldn't resist writing this. Anyway thank you for reading :)

P.S. As a note for those who are reading So many times and in so many ways, Fanfiction is being annoying and won't let me upload the next chapter, so I will have that up as soon as it allows me to do so.


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